Catch Me if You Can
by Phantom Creedy Lover
Summary: Oneshot. Peter allows Neal to go out for a bit after realizing he and Neal are like Frank Abagnale and Carl Hanratty. The results are far from what he expected. Peter/Neal slash. This was a friend's birthday present. Review!


**A/N: This is not to be taken seriously at all. This was a quick birthday present for my friend, and I decided to post it. I'm fully aware that everything happens convieniently in this, most of it would not happen and Neal is OOC half of the time. If you're a Peter/ Neal fan looking for a laugh, look no further. Please, no flames. I know it sucks. I don't own White Collar, blah blah blah. **

**Catch Me if You Can/ Big Blue Doe Eyes**

"I'm bored."

Peter Burke growled at the repeated phrase. He had been finishing up paperwork for the F.B.I, but the voice kept stopping him. He had heard it about seven times in the past ten minutes, and each time, it came from the one, the only, Neal Goddamn Caffrey. He shook his head and reminded himself not to use that. Neal would love being called that. "What do you want me to do about it, Neal?"

As if he was waiting for Peter's reaction, and in all honesty, he was, Neal lifted his pants leg, showing the tracer. "Let me go for a little bit. Two hours tops. You're doing that… stuff! I can't sit here any more! Let me go to the store or… something!" He waved his arms as best he could, being that he was lying down on the sofa opposite the one Peter was on. "…Please?" He let himself roll off the couch like it was nothing, landing with a 'thud' then, still on his knees, walked, well, really hobbled over to the older man.

Peter, not into his work to fail to notice, raised an eyebrow and blinked as Neal finished the six-foot trek across the room.

When he was done, Neal smiled his trademark smile, rested his head on Peter's knee, and gave him a puppy face.

Peter just blinked again. "You're ruining your suit." He jabbed at Neal's cheeks with his finger to try and get the conman off of him. No such luck.

"I don't care." Neal shrugged.

Peter stared now. He didn't care? Was he dying or something? Did h and Kate have a kid somewhere and Neal wanted Peter to take care of him? Had he just been diagnosed with cancer? He shook his head. This was Neal. If one of those really happened, Neal would've blurted it out by now. Realizing the situation probably wasn't dire, he settled for grabbing the paper on the coffee table and whacking Neal over the head with it.

Neal just raised his eyebrows innocently. "I still don't care."

Peter frowned. "What's _wrong with you_?"

Neal shrugged. "I'm just bored and want out." He sent another puppy face in Peter's direction.

Peter rolled his eyes. He didn't want to admit it, but he trusted Neal now. In the back of his head, he knew if he did let Neal go, the younger man would come back. He had nowhere else to go, and no one to se other than Moz. They were more like those two guys in "Catch Me if You Can". He decided to try and make small talk to get the con off his knee. He decided to use his previous thought in it. "You ever see that Tom Hanks and Leonardo-"

"DeCaprio flick? The one with the agent and 17-year-old con? Yup." Neal nodded.

Peter held in a snarl. Neal didn't so much as lift his head. "You and I are a lot like Frank Abagnale and Carl Hanratty."

"I don't remember who's who in that… does that make me Leo in that analogy?"

"Mm hm." Peter looked ahead, getting more and more irritated his plan hadn't worked.

"Then I'm okay with it." Neal nodded, then looked back up at Peter.

Peter growled yet again. Damn Neal, and damn his big, blue, doe eyes. He couldn't take the look anymore. He knew that's what Neal had wanted, but he just couldn't. "Fine. Let's see it."

"Yes!" Neal cheered and launched himself backwards. He yanked up the pants leg again.

After a few minutes, a lot of cursing, and a very lengthy, hold-filled phone call to tech support, and a blindfold and noise proof earmuffs on Neal (the con desperately wanted to know where Peter had found them as well as why he had them), Peter had finally gotten it off. Peter started setting ground rules the moment it hit the floor. "Call me every half hour. Keep in the two-mile radius. Don't talk to anyone who looks familiar. Avoid the corner that has Abe's Deli on it. I swear, if you run-"

"You'll kill me, hurt me, or castrate me." Neal finished, waggling his eyebrows at the last bit.

Peter scoffed. "Go. Shoo. Two hours, tops. That's all. If you're not back…"

"Uh huh." Neal nodded, only half, well, a quarter paying attention, already loving the sight of the Burke's front door. "Bye now!" he opened it, then closed it behind him, then took off running.

Peter sighed, only to realize what he had just allowed to happen, and how dumb he had been. However, instead of going after Neal, he just leaned back and covered his face with his hands. "I am _so_ getting fired for this."

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For some reason, Peter was worried. Neal had been gone and hour and a half. He was worried, not angry like he thought he would be. Not about losing his job, either. He was worried about Neal. Hell, he expected the man to come back, coffee in hand, two minutes after he had left. He knew it was a ridiculous move, but he thought he knew Neal. Another part of him screamed it had only been ¾ of them time he had allowed. He cursed, then went to go get his jacket, since the worried side won over. "Damn you, Caffrey!"

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Neal had just been enjoying his freedom, eating a hot dog by the nearest shop. The last thing he expected to see was Peter coming towards him, half an hour early. And he thought he knew his latest BFFL, as Peter's niece had come to call them. He quite liked the idea. However, he liked the idea of that with Peter, but just drop two certain letters, making the meaning a new one. He leaned towards the woman he had been talking to, who was attempting to flirt with him and failing miserably, might he add, and sure enough, he got the wanted result. Peter looked more pissed instantly, and sped up. Neal grinned innocently. "Hey! There's everyone's knight in shinning armor! What're you doing here, Pete?"

"Shut up, Caffrey! Don't call me that! In the car! NOW!" Peter barked, pointing at the back BMW that the big dogs at the FBI had given them for a case. Not very low profile.

Neal sighed dramatically and looked at the woman beside him. "Sorry. My boyfriend always gets so pushy if we haven't had sex in days."

Both Peter and the woman suddenly froze and looked like they were ready to kill Neal.

The woman scoffed. "Asshole!" she started to storm off, unintentionally towards Peter.

"Nice to meet you too! Call me!" Neal called after her and waved.

Peter waited for the girl to get close, then pointed to himself. "He's lying. I'm not gay. I'm straight. Married, too. To a woman. For six years!" he said, pausing with each pivot so she could hear him.

She kept walking.

Peter gave up, then looked back at Neal and plowed his way over to him. He punched Neal's shoulder, lighter than he had hoped.

Neal gasped in pain all the same. "Pete, why?!"

"Stop calling me that! You know why! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Neal frowned. "What, I can't have a little bit of fun? She was interested."

"You told her _we_ were _gay_!"

"…Thus 'fun'." Neal exaggerated the air quotes.

"Shut up, get in the car." Peter pointed at the said vehicle.

"Aw, come on, Peter!" Neal whined.

"Stop it. Get in. Now." Peter grabbed Neal's arm and turned to head back to the car. He didn't expect Neal to pull against him. There was a rubber band effect, and Peter ended up snapping right back around and stumbling- right when Neal's mouth confidently broke his fall.

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Peter didn't quite know what to do. He was stunned in multiple ways for multiple reasons. Here Neal was, kissing him no less, and he wasn't even disgusted or disturbed. He was… relieved? What was the word? Happy. No. Happy meant… happy. Content. Pleased. He was happily married to Elizabeth. So what was this? The feeling was foreign, but it was a strangely good foreign. What kind of thoughts were those for a happily married straight man? Who cared? He absentmindedly moaned into the kiss. Apparently the action was an all clear of sorts for Neal, because the younger man backed him up against the car.

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Still kissing Peter eagerly, Neal was honestly surprised how well it had gone so far. He rolled his eyes, hearing the woman from before, Jenny, Penny, Remy, whatever her name was, screaming "what the fuck?!" from a few feet away. Apparently she wasn't enjoying the show as much as he was while providing it. Too bad. He had only used her to make Peter jealous, and he had been pleased to see it worked. Saying that he expected Peter to be so willing, open, _submissive_, would've been a total lie, so naturally, if the story ever came up, he would be saying he expected it. It _was_ his nature, after all. Neal noticed that Peter wasn't that bad of a kisser, either, now that the other man was actually returning the action that Neal had began. He wondered if it was he who should in fact be jealous, but of Elizabeth. He finally pulled away and sent Peter his other trait, his signature smirk.

After getting over about half of his shock, he finally found his voice. "What the-how-who-we-I-a-WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Neal grinned. "A taste of what is to come, _Pete_." He pushed off of the car, then opened the co-passenger seat and got inside, belting himself in.

Peter just blinked and turned to look at him. Neal smiled, then spotted the tracker in Peter's hand. "Oh, there it is. Thanks!" He took it, and in just under a minute, managed to hook it back up and around his ankle.

Peter gawked again.

Neal blinked innocently. "Aren't you coming? We can't go anywhere if you don't drive, you know." He flashed another tooth-filled grin, but the arrogant smirk was back in there somewhere.

Peter opened his mouth to retort, then firmly shut it. Had what just happened even… happened?! He shook his head. Neal's smirk said it all. He just couldn't process it. Both the event and the fact he had _liked_ it. He grumbled, realizing Neal was right. He headed for the driver's side. "I need a new job."


End file.
